Exquisite
by Sensara
Summary: Weyoun's ship finds one of the hundred on their way to Cardassia. When the lost Changeling begins her exploration of Solids, Weyoun finds himself the center of her attention. How far is this Founder wanting to go with him? Rated T for safety.
1. Exquisite

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Star Trek world. I recently finished a story called 'Eros Pines', and this is its dark sister. I present to you 'Exquisite'.**_

Weyoun let his eyes sweep over the corridor one last time: this was his prize, his accomplishment. Even the tan walls had almost smiled at him as he walked past them, as he crushed the Federation under his thumb. This was Sisko's station, and the Dominion had easily plucked it from his grasp. But now Sisko had returned with the upper hand, and the Jem'Hadar and Cardassians were scrambling to evacuate. Every airlock was crowded, and lines were probably forming at every transporter. No one wanted to be here when the Federation came aboard; Weyoun knew how angry humans and their allies could get, especially when seeking revenge. Even the Vorta had to admit that Sisko was clever, and now it was time to leave lest he face the captain's wrath.

The airlock closed behind him and the ship lurched as the docking clamps were released. There was no turning back now.

…

He stared aimlessly out of his personal viewscreen, contemplating all the various forms of torture the Dominion had at its disposal. None of them seemed fitting for Dukat and his ilk; after all, if he and his men had disabled the minefield earlier, perhaps they wouldn't be in this mess. They probably would have taken the Federation by now. Yes, they would have been laughing as they orbited Earth had it not been for Damar's incompetence. He had received the word that Dukat was not on any of the retreating ships, and Weyoun knew Damar would be the perfect replacement. Ignorant, foolish, stupid...Damar was all these things. He could easily be manipulated...

He turned his mind to strategic matters and started planning new offensives. But a beeping noise interrupted his thoughts.

He barely heard the Third's report as he stared at the sensors. He couldn't tear his eyes from the object floating out in space: approximately 2 liters of golden goo floated effortlessly out in the vacuum of space, moving slowly. He ordered a halt.

He examined sensors and magnified the substance on his viewscreen, and he turned at the sound of the opening door.

"Why have we stopped?" the Female Founder demanded. Weyoun bowed.

"Founder, there is something you should see."

The First took off his headset and handed it to the Founder, who put it on impatiently. As she stared at the object, her expression softened considerably, and Weyoun even spied a tiny smile grace her lips.

"Beam it aboard, directly to my quarters."

Her order was obeyed immediately, and she quickly left the bridge without another word.

…

It had been a few months since the Dominion's retreat from Deep Space 9, and the war had reached a stagnant, tedious stalemate. For every Federation outpost that was invaded, a ketracel white storage facility would be blown up. For every fleet of ships from the Federation that was destroyed, two garrisons of Jem'Hadar and Cardassian ships were eliminated along with it. The war was bloody, tiresome, and far too long for Weyoun's tastes.

He was working a very late shift one night, completing several reports and planning new offensives, when he wearily walked down the corridor toward his quarters. It was dark, and the Jem'Hadar guards were not far behind him, but there was little chance he would be attacked in Central Command. Any excursion out into the streets was another matter. Patches of pale moonlight patterned the floor in striking squares of black and white, and he noticed a dark figure just inside one of the shafts of light, staring out of the high windows.

_Probably one of Damar's comfort women, musing on the futility of her existence, _he thought to himself. But he heard the guards behind him straighten to attention, but they did not move their weapons. Only one thing could make the Jem'Hadar act like that.

He straightened his posture as well, then strode forward with caution. When he came closer and was able to see her face, he gasped and bowed low.

"Founder," he breathed, spreading his arms wide in a sign of submission. "It is an honor to stand in your presence."

The Changeling turned to him in awe. Slowly, she came forward, and he saw it was not the Female Founder he reported to daily. This was another Changeling. She looked somewhat like the Founder, but her eyes were rounder and wider, and they were a clearer shade of blue. Her eyes were startling even, much like his own. She was the same height as the Founder, making her as tall as him, perhaps a little shorter. Unlike Odo, her features were slightly more defined and human-looking, and the only Changeling-looking features were her nose and browbone. They were more abstract than the rest of her face, but she had somehow managed to look more human than Odo, no doubt because of the Founder's assistance. Her ears were covered by dirty blonde hair, and her locks were longer than the Founder's. Her hair was cropped even all around and came to her chin, reminding him vaguely of Romulans.

The Changeling began to circle him, her face inches from his skin, examining him in absolute awe.

"You're a Solid, but you're not Jem'Hadar," she murmured. Her voice was lighter, less gruff than the Founder's. Weyoun breathed in slowly and nodded. She came around and faced him, then lifted his chin with a few fingers. Her eyes roamed over his every feature, lingering especially around his nose, eyes and ears.

"Amazing," she breathed as she examined his ears. "Your ears are...oh, what is the word..."

He frowned. "Founder?"

She laughed softly. "I'm still getting used to this Solid's language. It's...complicated."

"That is true sometimes, yes," he murmured, bowing his head. He couldn't think of a better response, so he stayed still and silent as she lightly touched the ridges on his ears.

"Oh," she breathed, "the word means more than pretty or even beautiful...can you help me?"

He turned to her. "Of course. How so?"

"Name me words. More...strong than pretty or beautiful..." She stared at him expectantly, and he understood.

"Lovely?" he offered. She shook her head.

"Stronger."

He thought for a moment. "Gorgeous? Superb? Splendid? Striking?"

"Closer, but stronger, please." She was grinning now, her eyes darting back and forth from his unwavering gaze to the object of their strange discussion.

"Flawless? Precious?"

"Stronger!" she said a little louder, her eyes dancing with delight.

"Um...exquisite?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed, and her eyes lit up with joy. "Your ears are exquisite! Your skin is so...flawless, your eyes, your _detail_...she doesn't like this language you have, but I think its wonderful!"

He nearly wept to receive such high praise from a Founder, even for something so simple as his appearance. His eyes widened as her hand reached out and began to trace his features. Her finger glided down his nose and traced the outline of his nostrils, than it moved down to his lips and followed the edge of his pale lips. Her hand cupped his cheek and felt the smooth, purple tinted skin, then she gripped his ear and began to trace every ridge of it. Then on to his hairline, and then she buried her hand in his hair.

"Your skin is so...smooth is the word, yes?" He nodded, smiling at her. "And your hair..." She still had not dislodged her hand from his locks; she was still absorbed in feeling it.

"I like the feel of this," she murmured simply. "It is pleasing."

"I'm glad," he said sincerely, smiling widely in relief and happiness. Her smile widened in response, and she placed both hands on either side of his face. His smile faded, and she frowned.

"Your lips move up and I like it. Can I see it again, please?"

He was confused for a moment, then he realized what she was asking. He smiled, and her smile returned.

"Yes...there is a word for this," she said, touching his lips, "yes?"

He nodded. "It's called a smile."

"A smile," she repeated, her eyes glittering. "Yes, I like it...your eyes are more...attractive when you smile. They are more beautiful now."

His throat tightened as strong emotions overwhelmed him. This was so strange, but he had never been happier in all his days, listening to her discover and judge him. Her discovery was wondrous and her judgment positive. She took a step back and took in his features as a whole.

"Attractive...you are attractive."

He blushed furiously. "Thank you, Founder."

She leaned back in and stared deeply into his eyes, and he stood there frozen as she did so. "Your eyes and mine...they are the same."

"The same color, yes," he replied, unsure for a moment.

"Color...yes, the difference in the way light reflects off of objects. The eyes of the Solids then perceive the reflection as color..."

He grinned enthusiastically. "In essence, yes. You...didn't seem to have trouble reciting that."

She laughed. "I wanted to know what your strange markings were, so she taught me to read. I like it...I have learned much, but..."

"Yes?"

She looked at him imploringly. "I learn much from reading, but you have taught me much as well. To touch and examine is not the same as to simply see. I want more than to see."

She touched his ears again, running her thumb along every pronounced ridge. "I cannot do this by reading. And your language...you speak it so well."

He blushed again. "It is how we are made."

She grinned. "I like how you were made. All things have names, so what is yours?"

He was about to answer when another figure strode out of the shadows and smiled at the young Changeling.

"I think you've been out here on your own long enough," the Female Founder chided gently. "Come, it's time for you to rest now."

But the younger Changeling simply ran up to the Founder and pointed at Weyoun. "Look at him...isn't he beautiful?"

The Founder smiled slightly. "He was made to attract the Solids, but he is none of your concern. You will realize this once you learn more."

The Changeling looked hurt. "If you say so."

She gave her a patronizing smile. "I know this may be confusing and frustrating for you. You've only been exposed to the world of the Solids for a few short weeks. But everything will make sense to you in the end. Now come."

The two walked away, and the younger Changeling looked longingly back at him. "Thank you," she called softly. "You really are exquisite."

Then the shadows swallowed her, and she was gone.


	2. Alluring

_**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.**_

"But all you need is in here!" the Founder insisted. "Why do you want to go outside?"

"Founder-"

"You should not call me that. Only servants refer to me as such, and you are not a servant."

She nodded sadly. "All right...I want to find new things, new people. There are so many things out there to explore! I want to touch and feel and hear, not just read. You've taught me so much, but I want to start learning on my own!"

The Founder sighed. "I guess you are no different than any other child. You desire independence, and I will not hinder it. But you will realize that the Link is all you need."

"I know," she replied, "but you told me that our people sometimes exit the Link and shapeshift."

A small smile graced the older Changeling's face, and she nodded. "True...very well. I'll call the guards."

The young Changeling grinned. "Thank you."

She shook her head. "No, it was wrong of me to coop you up in here. You are still very new to things, and of course you want to explore."

Her grin widened. "I won't disappoint you. Besides, you claim the Jem'Hadar are the best soldiers in the quadrant. Why should you be afraid?"

…

Weyoun turned at the sound of the door opening, and quickly bowed to the Changeling as she walked in. Damar had already returned to his quarters, and there weren't any but a few Jem'Hadar in the corners, absorbed in their work. They saluted the Founder, then returned to their consoles. But she ignored them and came straight up to him.

"You never did tell me your name," she said softly.

"My name is Weyoun," he replied. "I live to serve you."

She stayed silent for a moment. "Then...maybe you could help me again." She looked uncertain, but at his smile, her expression brightened.

"Of course."

"Will you walk with me outside? I've never seen Cardassia except for out a window."

He nodded, and she mentioned that she did not know the way out. Weyoun led her through the corridors and out the exit, and soon they were roaming the night streets of the capital city. A fiery sunset was sinking toward the horizon, and she was amazed at the sight. She stopped and watched it for a full fifteen minutes, completely enthralled with the changing colors and the soft patterns of light on the clouds.

"It's like the sky is..." She trailed off, unable to find the words to describe how she felt. But Weyoun could see she was moved by the sunset, and he wished for the hundredth time that he could see what she saw. After she had complimented him profusely on his appearance, he had stared in his mirror for hours trying to appreciate what she so found so highly attractive. He could not see attractiveness, beauty or exquisiteness in himself; he only saw a Vorta.

"You look sad," she murmured. He noted that so far in her company, her voice was very soft, as if she feared raising her voice above a slight murmur. When she was excited, her volume increased, but he sometimes had to strain his ears to hear her. He sighed.

"No, I am not sad," he said softly, looking back to the dying sunset.

"Then why don't you smile? You are not angry, are you?"

"No," he replied, laughing a little. She shook her head and walked up to him, touching his lips with a gentle finger.

"What can I do to make you smile?"

He blushed; he had never received such an odd request from a Founder. "My happiness is of no consequence, Founder," he murmured demurely.

She seemed like she might argue, but then she sighed. "If you say so." Then he saw a question light up her eyes, and she circled him again.

"You are attractive...beautiful...exquisite...but what am I to you?"

He looked at her in awe. "You are a god come down from heaven to be with us lowly Solids. There is _nothing _more beautiful than that," he breathed, speaking sincerely from his heart. He believed every word he said, and it made him want to dance with joy when she smiled at his words. He smiled back in return, and her eyes lit up.

"Being with me makes you smile?"

"What cause have I for sorrow in the presence of a god?" he replied with rapture. She laughed.

"Then I should be around you more, so you will smile."

She didn't miss the way his entire face lit up at the thought, and she laughed again.

"Yes, I will be with you more...you have an...alluring smile. It pleases me."

He blushed profusely and murmured out a thank-you, and she took his hand and began to drag him along the city streets like an eager child.

"Come on!" she cried, letting him take the lead.

He showed her the city, from the quiet parks to the bustle of the still-active marketplace. The parks gave her a good view of the sky, and the lights of the city did not dim the glory of the stars. She stared at the vast expanse in wonder, speechless. He stood beside her and stared up with her, though he could not see the stars at all.

They moved on to the marketplace, and he wondered why so many people were out tonight. He asked one of the nearby Jem'Hadar guards, but the soldier did not know. He led her through the busy streets, and it was very slow going because she stopped and looked at anything that caught her interest. As she examined everything from the city benches to the pottery of a street merchant, he tried to see what she found so fascinating in it all.

The Jem'Hadar discreetly paved a clear path for the two of them to tread, though the Changeling insisted that she didn't want to disturb anyone. But Weyoun would not have it; he ordered a path cleared through the marketplace to the other side. But halfway down the plaza, she stopped dead.

An old Cardassian man was sitting on the ground, and he was playing a lively melody on a woodwind. The Changeling froze and watched him in awe as he filled the air with music, and soon she began to sway. Weyoun frowned at first, but when it became evident that she really enjoyed the song, he smiled instead. When the song was over, she noticed how tired Weyoun looked, and they exited the plaza and headed back to Central Command.

"Oh," she breathed to him as they walked on quieter streets, "that sound...what was it?"

"I believe the instrument is called a _kembat_, but I could be mistaken."

"No, Weyoun, the _sound_."

He frowned. "I don't know the name of the song, but-"

"Song?"

He nodded. "A series of musical notes that form a melody, um..." He trailed off with a nervous laugh, as he was lacking in musical education.

"So that was song?" she asked, her eyes wide.

He finally understood. "That was _music_, Founder," he said with a smile. She closed her eyes.

"Music..." she murmured to herself, as if trying to commit it to memory. "It was..." Her eyes snapped open and she frowned, then sighed in frustration. Her gaze found his, and he stared at her with concern until her face brightened. She took a step toward him.

"You...your voice is music, Weyoun. It is pleasing."

He bowed his head low, not sure how to reply. She seemed eager to compliment him, and it made his heart feel wonderfully overwhelmed. It was a true honor to spend time with her, this Founder that looked on him with approving eyes. If she only knew what she meant to him...

It was nearing midnight when they entered the political district, the highest point in the capital. From this point, they had a good view of the city, and Weyoun thought that the usual glow was missing for some reason. They continued along the streets until they were two blocks from Central Command, and the buildings were low in the street they were on. They had a fair view of the sky, and Weyoun glanced up at it when he heard a great whooshing sound. The Changeling gasped.

"Weyoun," she breathed as she looked up at the stars. "Why are they falling?"

"It's a meteor shower, Founder. I'm guessing that's why so many people were out tonight."

She gasped in wonder as the shooting stars streaked across the black sky, her expression as eager and awe-struck as a small child. Even Weyoun could see streaks of light as they fell toward the planet, and although he could not see the beauty in it, something about the phenomenon made his heart pound a little faster. And standing there in the dark with a Founder at his side...every color in the street seemed a little brighter tonight.

His gaze was suddenly directed downward as he felt a hand slip into his and hold it tight. He realized she was clutching his hand, and her grip was firm, nearly uncomfortable, as if she feared he might wander off or disappear. But he stayed stock still and stared at her in wonder; no matter how many lights streamed down from the heavens, it would never compare to this moment for him.

She sighed contentedly as the whooshing sound died, and she turned to him with a smile. But it faded into a confused expression, and she did not break his gaze for a full minute. He realized her hand was still clutching his, her grip tighter now. Her body grew tense and stiff, and he frowned in concern for her.

"Founder?" he whispered, tilting his head.

She stepped closer to him so that they were inches from each other. "How do Solids display affection? There is a gesture, a sort of...touching..."

She came even closer and wrapped her arms around him. "Like this, yes?"

He nodded slowly, too caught up in the feel of her arms around him to even attempt speech. Before he could blink, he was pressed to her body, his chin resting on her shoulder. He gasped, then closed his eyes, savoring every second of this divine embrace.

After a few moments, she broke away, then glanced down.

"It's getting late...she'll be expecting me."

He nodded and led her back to Central Command. He didn't dare dwell on what had just happened lest he burst out into joyful tears. They wandered the dark corridors in silence, and she stopped at the end of her hallway. She turned to him and wrapped her arms around him again.

"Thank you. That was pleasing, being with-" She broke off her sentence and her eyes grew wide for a moment, as if she was afraid to finish her thoughts. But then she smiled.

"Good night, Weyoun...I'll see you again sometime soon."

He smiled back in utter joy, causing her grin to widen.

"And when I do, you will smile for me?"

He laughed. "If that is what will please you, then of course I will."

Her hand found his and she squeezed tightly before letting go and disappearing down the corridor. He stood there in the dim moonlight and stared after her, taking in several deep breaths before he dared to move. Then he quickly strode toward his quarters and did not think until the doors had shut firmly behind him.

He sat on the edge of his bed and closed his eyes tightly. If he tried, he could still feel her hand in his, her tight, almost desperate embrace, her finger on his lips...In one evening, he had received more attention, more _affection _from a Founder than he had ever received in five lifetimes. She was so new to things, so naïve, stepping cautiously into the world of the Solids as timidly as a child. He wanted to help her steps to be more confident, to make this odd transition easier for her. She seemed eager for his help, moreover, for his..._approval_, and he was desperate for hers.

He began to undress, his movements automatic, and he laid down in the darkness, breathing slowly, holding in the joyful tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks. But he could not hold them back, and he gasped as the wetness soaked the pillowcase.

He had been honored tonight, and he would cherish this evening for the rest of eternity.

…

_He was standing in Central Command, working on something that was due very soon. He had to give a report to the Founder, and his report would not get done. He worked and worked on it, but nothing appeared on the PADD._

_He felt arms wrap around his core, and for some reason, he felt safe in the newcomer's embrace. He sighed and leaned back against the stranger, but they twisted him around to face him._

_The young Changeling smiled at him and put a hand on his cheek-_

He snapped awake, his skin tingling with instinct: he knew that there was someone in the room with him. It was still dark; even with his eyes closed he could tell that the moonlight that usually filtered through his small skylight was missing. Apparently, it was early morning.

Panic started to creep into the edges of his nerves as a dark shadow leaned over him. But then a warm hand pressed to his cheek and stroked his face. The intruder's touch was familiar somehow...

The edge of the bed beside his waist sunk a little, and his visitor did not remove their hand. Rather, they let it trail down his bare chest, feeling every inch of him. A light finger traced the outline of his muscles, and he had to hold in a gasp. Not only was his skin hyper-sensitive, but he realized who was visiting him in the middle of the night.

He opened his eyes and stared into wide blue orbs. She smiled at him, then directed her attention back to his chest.

"Your skin is so smooth..." she commented lightly. She removed her hand as he sat up, and he leaned back against the headboard before bowing his head and spreading his hands.

"Forgive me, Founder...I did not know you were going to visit."

The joyful light in her eyes died. "Oh...did I do something wrong?"

"No," he whispered sincerely. "You just...took me by surprise is all."

"I apologize, I...I was done regenerating-I have a room to myself now-and...I was walking around, looking at the moon...and I saw the Jem'Hadar and they told me these were your quarters...so I came inside to see you. But you were asleep...for a moment I thought you were dead," she murmured, her eyes wide and fearful, "but then I remembered you Solids require sleep. I watched you...you looked so peaceful...and your skin was glowing in the moonlight and I..."

She trailed off as if unsure of what to say next, but her hand reached out again and lightly touched his chest. Her hand pressed against his breastbone until it was flat against his skin, and her warmth seeped into his now-cool skin. Her hand was resting right over his heart, and his heart thundered in his chest at her touch. She gasped and pressed harder.

"I feel something," she breathed. "It's..."

"My heartbeat," Weyoun finished for her, carefully adjusting her hand a little so she could feel it better. She closed her eyes and stayed silent for about five minutes, and his pulse slowed slightly in that time.

"It slowed down. Why?"

"I am not as...surprised as I was a minute ago. The fear is gone."

She opened her eyes. "You fear me?"

"Yes...no...I don't know."

"I don't want you to fear me..." she whispered, trailing her hand up to his collarbone. Another minute of silence passed before she sighed.

"You need more sleep, yes?"

He nodded sheepishly.

"Then I will go."

"You don't have to," he murmured, his voice barely audible. She looked back to him, and a smile grew on her lips.

"Then I will stay. For you."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise before laying back down. She stroked his hair and face again, then traced the muscles on his chest. He sighed contentedly and fought the sleep that darkened the edges of his vision, but eventually he fell asleep with her hand resting over his heart once more, a smile on his pale, soft lips.


	3. Irresistible

_**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.**_

Damar strode out in his usual drunken huff, cuing the other Cardassians that it was the end of their shift. For once, the drunken lout stayed the entire day, which surprised Weyoun. But the Vorta was very glad to see Damar go so he could have some time alone to think. The Jem'Hadar in the corners continued working diligently, and Weyoun couldn't help but wish that Damar could be half as useful. But when the bumbling fool had come to the end of what little usefulness he provided, it would be the end of the line for him. The thought made the Vorta smile, and he smiled even wider when the young Changeling walked through the doors.

She came up to him and returned his smile, then sighed.

"I...I would like to hear music. I...can't get the sound of it out of my mind..." she trailed off, her gaze pained and vulnerable. But he nodded to reassure her, and she relaxed slightly.

He showed her how to assess the musical database, and then she left to go to her quarters and explore the new discovery, and he went back to work. He couldn't help wonder why the Changeling had asked _him _of all people for help. Surely the Female Founder could have helped her. But then, the young Changeling had insinuated that the Founder was not fond of Solid traditions and habits. But none of that was his business anyway.

He turned his attention once more to the Bolian front and concentrated on his work.

…

He sighed wearily as the doors of his quarters closed behind him, and he flopped down on the bed and began to remove his boots. But before he could take them off, his communications console beeped, signaling a new message. He opened the message and stared at the screen in bewilderment.

_Come see me. Please._

It was from the young Changeling. He adjusted his clothing and walked back out the door; far be it for him to ignore summons from a god. As he strode through the corridors, he felt something with the message was odd. It wasn't the summons themselves; even he could see the Founder liked his company, a fact that made his spirit dance for joy. It was the _please _that bewildered him. The young Changeling had always been rather polite with him, not always in words but in her tone of voice. But that _please_...he banished his bewilderment and suspicions from his mind and entered her quarters.

Like the Female Founder, her room was stark, with only a small console in the corner. He tilted his head in confusion as he noticed that music was playing over her communications system, filling the room with sound. Some sort of plucked string sung a ...rather sensuous melody, and it almost caressed his sense of hearing. It had a driving beat that pounded through him, and he shifted uncomfortably. The music was one thing, but the look the young Changeling gave him as she turned around made shivers run down his spine. Her eyes had a haunted look in them, and he took a step forward in concern for her.

"Founder?" he whispered gently. "Are you all right?"

She closed her eyes and did not respond.

"Shall I call the guards?"

She shook her head. "Please don't."

She sighed and turned back to the console, and, as if in a trance, traced the edge of it. Although one hand lightly brushed the surface of the console, he noticed the other was clenched tightly into a fist. He winced, wondering what in the world could be plaguing her like this. He listened to the music for a moment, then cleared his throat.

"May I ask...why are you listening to Earth music, Founder?"

She turned back to him, and the haunted look eased slightly. "It's enchanting...isn't it, Weyoun?"

He smiled slightly and nodded. "It's quite interesting, yes..."

"I looked it up in the musical database. It's called tango...it has me spellbound, Weyoun. I can't. Stop. _Listening. _To. This. Song."

Her words were stiff, forced, and his heart started beating a little faster in worry. He knew he probably should call the guards anyway for her own protection, but he was frozen in place as she began pacing. The music seemed to be controlling her actions, and she seemed to be tormented by the sound as it built into an intense crescendo. The melody quickened and quickened and would not stop, and he was about to order the computer to end the music when she cast her gaze toward him a second time.

His heart stopped beating. Her eyes cut him to the core, and the look in them made him tremble with true fear. The haunted look had hardened into fierce determination, and as the music continued to build, she suddenly began to walk toward him. He stiffened, thinking she might strike him, but instead she grabbed his arms and crushed him to her chest.

A warm, fierce mouth found his and he breathed in sharply.

His fearful eyes widened as she pressed harder, eliciting a surprised moan from him. Her hands slowly and carefully moved from his arms to his back, and she held him as close as she possibly could. His knees seemed to turn to water as she slowly caressed his lips with hers, and he clutched at her desperately in order to stay on his feet. His mind whirled madly with a flurry of alarms and questions, but every time he tried to concentrate on the blaring sirens, his thoughts were brought sharply back to the feel of her lips against his. She began to deepen the kiss, pouring an uncontrolled passion into him, and tears began to stream down his face. In one gesture, she had shown him the most painful torture and the most blissful paradise in one. Not knowing what he was doing, he slid his hands from her chest to her back, then closed his eyes. If this is what she desired...he lived to serve her, and it was obvious that this was how she wanted that service. It was not his place to question, only to obey.

And oh, by the Founders...obedience had never felt so sweet, so _good_. He could taste heaven on her lips, feel paradise in her gossamer caresses. Every hair on his body stood on end as she traced the hem of his jacket, and he could not think. Finally, she released him from the torturous bliss and gazed deeply into his eyes.

"That felt..._right_," she growled softly. He opened his mouth to attempt a response, but she silenced him with another kiss, this one fiercer than the first. One of her hands was entwined tightly in his hair, and the other kept him steady, resting on his lower back.

In the blink of an eye, he found himself against the wall, her warm body pressed to his. He gasped in shock, but was quickly cut off by her mouth. He moaned weakly, slave to her touch, slave to her every whim. That she would ask this of him...words formed in his head, then quickly died as her fingers lightly stroked his face. He shivered violently, inhaling a sharp, hot breath as she kneaded his hair between her fingers. Her thumb grazed gently over the skin of his neck, and he moaned into her mouth. She pressed even harder against him, and he suddenly felt very hot, then cold as ice. Shivers crept down his back as she opened the dark gates of a delicious hell.

His breath came in short, quick gasps as she moved away from his lips toward his neck. Her touch was timid at first, but quickly grew in intensity until he was moaning like a madman.

Her lips lightly kissed a spot right behind his ear, and he gasped loudly.

She immediately broke away and stared at him in concern. "Weyoun...does this cause you pain?"

He seemed to have momentarily lost the capacity to speak, so he shook his head. She frowned at him, then reached out her hand and touched the spot, starting a slow, careful massage. He hissed and breathed out slowly, his eyes closing of their own accord. It was torture, pure, unadulterated torture as her fingers caressed what felt like the most sensitive part of his body, and he moaned weakly in undeniable pleasure. His eyes opened partially at her gasp, and he saw her eyes alight in comprehension.

"This is _pleasing _to you," she breathed, pressing harder. He could not suppress a moan, and he nodded slowly to answer her question. Her mouth replaced her fingers, and he felt he might scream as her lips parted and the tip of her tongue brushed his skin.

"Founders," he hissed between clenched teeth, instinctively digging his fingernails into her.

"Intensely pleasing," she murmured in his ear, tracing the edge of the appendage with her tongue. Tears streamed freely down his face now as the pleasure, the pure bliss consumed him. His mind could not process anything but his body's heightened awareness. His senses were overwhelmed with pleasure, with her sensuous caresses and soft lips and warm, unidentifiable smell. Heat...nothing but heat and her tongue and soft hands and his loud, desperate moans...

He felt a breath of cool air as she finally pulled away, and she gazed deeply into his eyes, the haunted look replaced by a very pleased gaze. He smiled weakly as she carefully wiped away the sweat that pricked his brow, and her blue eyes were wide as she lightly touched his cheek.

"I've never seen you act like this, Weyoun...but I like it. I like the noises you make and..."

She trailed off, pressing another desperate kiss on him. But she quickly pulled away again and rested her forehead against his.

"There is more, isn't there?"

"More of what?" he managed to gasp.

"More to this intimacy."

He took a few moments to breathe before answering. "Yes, there is more."

She smiled. "I want to explore it...with you."

He closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall, then began to unlatch his vest, but she gently gripped his wrist. He opened his eyes and her grin widened.

"Not quite yet. Tomorrow night."

He nodded and dropped his hand back to his side.

"Why?" he breathed, then berated himself for daring to question her. But she only smiled and traced his lips with a gentle finger.

"The music made me see...you are...so alluring to me...I don't know why...but you, your ears, your eyes, your skin, your _voice_...you are irresistible, Weyoun."

Underneath the pool of confusion and conflicting emotions in his mind, he felt irrevocably pleased. A small smile graced his panting lips, and he trembled with delight as she gently kissed his cheek.

"You need sleep," she stated simply, "and I need to regenerate. I'll see you tomorrow."

She kissed his lips one last time, and he willingly drank the sweetness that she poured into him. He bowed his head and left her presence, breathless, his mind reeling. He did not dare to think until he was behind closed doors again, and when they were closed, he backed into them and slid down to the floor, paralyzed by fear.

A Founder had just successfully seduced him and was asking for a more thorough education in intimacy. He could teach her, of course; sexual matters had been part of his training. But to teach a Founder...the thought was ludicrous and frightening. He banished the thought from his mind and went to the washroom. He cupped water from the sink in his trembling hands and splashed it on his face, letting the little rivets run down his neck. He slowly opened his eyes and looked at his reflection in the small mirror. His face was paler than it had ever been, and the purple skin at his hairline and in the hollows of his cheeks was very prominent. Strands of hair that usually were impeccably combed into a fluffy mass had gotten loose when she had pinned him to the wall...

He quickly turned away from his reflection, his skin prickling as if he had received an electric shock.

His pupils were fully dilated. She had...a Changeling had aroused him. He knew that even had he been slightly inclined to build up walls of resistance and control, she would have unlocked them all. In her unyielding curiosity, she now seemed to know more about his body than he did. He had no idea the skin behind his ear was that sensitive...

He finished getting ready for bed and crawled under the sheets, shivering violently. He could not still his whirling mind; his thoughts dwelt reverently and fearfully on everything she had done to him. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, then tried to sleep. But when the faintest rays of dawn crept down through the tiny skylight, he was still wide awake, still contemplating the task ahead of him.


	4. Intoxicating

_**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. This chapter contains SEXUAL MATTERS. Don't like, don't read.**_

Although he hid it all day, Weyoun's mind was churning with nervousness and worry. The task ahead of him that night did not leave his mind for a minute. There were moments when he realized it would be imperative to touch her, and the thought made his heart pound with excitement. But then the worry and nervousness would return, and he would concentrate harder on his work, or at least attempt to. He was tracking a raid on the Federation outpost at Corish X when the door opened.

Damar had failed to come in today, not that Weyoun cared. The last thing he needed was the Cardassian's drunken antics while he was trying to work and trying not to think about tonight. But it was not Damar. Weyoun tensed slightly and bowed to her, and the young Changeling came forward and lightly touched his shoulder. She glanced over his battle plans and asked a few questions, which he gladly answered.

"Your quarters, 2200," she whispered as he traced the Cardassian border with his finger.

"As you wish," he breathed back.

...

The rest of the day seemed to slip away like sand between his fingers, and soon he was walking to his quarters, his heart pounding in worried anticipation. She hadn't arrived yet, so he sat on his bed, only to jump up again and pace around the room.

Finally, the doors opened to reveal her, and once the doors had closed behind her, she rushed to him and gathered him into her arms. Her embrace was short before she kissed him again, and the ferocity and passion behind it nearly knocked him off his feet.

She pulled away and laughed. "I don't even know what that's called, but I like it," she murmured, tracing his lips with a deft finger.

"A kiss," he replied softly. He shivered and gasped at her actions, and her smile widened. She slowly trailed her hand toward his ear, and as she began a slow, exploratory massage, his eyes widened. She kissed him again, this one slower and hungrier, and she took her time exploring his lips. Then she parted his lips with her tongue and explored further, causing him to moan. She gripped his ear tighter, and he took that as a sign that she was pleased. He was doing all right so far, letting her explore him and giving her what she had found pleasing yesterday.

He felt his jacket loosen, and he shrugged it off his shoulders. Then she stopped and allowed him to take off his shirt, but when he reached for the zipper of his pants, she stopped him with a giggle.

"One thing at a time, Vorta," she whispered, kissing his neck. She shoved him back and he collided with the wall, and he wrapped his arms around her as she returned to the sensitive spot behind his ear. Her lips teasingly and sensuously grazed his skin, and soon he was panting and moaning. Sweat began to prick his forehead and bead on his chest. Her hands trailed lazily down his chest, lavishing caresses onto his smooth skin. He gasped loudly as her teeth grazed him just as her finger pressed his nipple, and his fingernails dug into her back. She pulled away and concentrated on his chest, letting her fingers roam freely over his skin.

"Do you..." he began, his voice no more than a whisper. "Do you want to move to the bed?"

She tilted her head. "I don't know...do Solids..."

"This sort of activity usually happens in a bed, yes."

She nodded and dragged him over to the bed, then let him lay down on it. She laid herself on top of him and gently kissed his lips.

"Now what?"

He sighed. "Whatever you want, Founder. I live to serve you, and if it is your wish to explore me..." he trailed off, blushing. But she simply smiled and went back to feeling his chest. Her legs slipped down to kneeling on either side of him, and her fingers continued drawing lines to nowhere on his chest.

Suddenly, she dipped her head and licked his skin, causing him to gasp. It was...a peculiar sensation, but it felt good despite that. He closed his eyes and let her do as she wished. She slowly kissed every inch of him from his neck all the way down his chest, and when she found a sensitive spot, he would moan and convulse slightly in pleasure. When this happened, she would stop and breath on the spot, then lightly trace the rising goosebumps with her tongue.

"Yes," he gasped as she paused over a spot in the center of his chest. His breathing was erratic, erotic, beyond his control. She learned fast, and she often bit the sensitive places just to make him moan louder.

She came to the hem of his pants, then abandoned her trail down his body in favor of another kiss. Then she kissed his nose and sighed.

"This intimacy is not for one to please the other, is it?"

"No," he breathed, "it is for two to please each other, Founder."

She grinned at that and flipped him so that they switched places. "Then please me, Weyoun."

Before his eyes, the pale pink clothes she had on disappeared, and she was now naked. He gazed into her eyes for a moment, then slowly, reverently leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. He felt her smile against his lips, and every move he made was slow and worshipful. She willingly followed his lead wherever he went, almost worshiping him back as they slowly intensified the kiss. In his mind, this _was_ worship, and he would give her his all, no matter his reservations. He lived to serve her, to please her, and this was the way she had chosen for him to fulfill his devotion.

He slowly moved on to her neck, and she laughed.

"When you touch me so gently...it feels pleasant..."

He took that as a sign that she liked it when he lightly kissed and caressed her skin. He lightened the pressure, and she laughed again.

"Yes," she whispered so softly he could barely hear her, "I like that."

At her encouragement, he made every second of contact light and teasing. She murmured in approval, her hands entwining themselves in his thick, curly hair. He stroked her breasts with a careful hand, and she smiled up at him when he pulled away.

In a blink of an eye, he was back under her, and she pressed her mouth to his, and her fingers explored his ribs. He gasped as the tingling, tickling sensation overwhelmed him, and to his surprise, he laughed into her mouth. She stopped and stared at him.

"Weyoun?" She pressed harder against his ribs, causing him to laugh again.

"That," he gasped, "that tickles!"

She laughed with him, then stared at him with a mischievous gleam in her eye. She lowered her head and kissed his ribs.

He shrieked in laughter, convulsing violently to her playful lips. His body twitched away from her, and his hands automatically went to shove her away before he stopped himself. He was her servant, so if she wished to tickle him until he died of laughter, however unbearable the contact might be, it was not his place to stop her.

But she did stop after a bit and reached for the zipper of his pants. He pulled them off and tossed them over the side of the bed, and he blushed as she stared at the bulge in his underwear. She touched the hem of the undergarment, then carefully lifted them over the bulge and off his body. After dropping them on the floor, she turned her attention back to his now-naked form. Her hands trailed down the outside of his thighs, then back up the inside. Her gossamer caresses only intensified his arousal, to his shame. But she smiled at him and stroked the rising organ, causing his eyes to widen. He let out a whimper as she continued...it felt _so good_...His wide eyes closed and he moaned, long and loud and desperate. She pressed harder, eliciting another whimper.

"You like that," she murmured with a grin.

"_Yes_," he moaned back, convulsing as her fingers played with him. She kept going and his moans got louder.

"If you like that, then you'll certainly enjoy this," she whispered.

He shot up as he felt her mouth enclose around him, but a moan escaped him before he could beg her to stop.

"Founder, please," he whispered desperately, his tone changing to a more serious one. She stopped and looked at him, her smile fading.

"Don't you like it?"

"Yes, I like it...I like it more than I sh-...you do not understand what that means, Founder," he gasped, desperate to make her understand.

"What I just did? Was that wrong?" she asked, her voice as small as a worried child's.

"No, not necessarily, but...that act is generally not done unless the female is pressured into doing it, or if she loves the man..." he trailed off, swallowing around the lump growing in his throat.

She sat up and straddled him. "I want to do it," she whispered. "I like seeing you tremble at my touch, and I want to see how far this goes...and besides, I like you. I don't know why but...you, Weyoun, are so...intoxicating." The last word was breathed onto his trembling lips, and he could not help but shiver.

"So show me what happens next," she said with a wicked grin, shoving him back onto the pillow. She continued her work, and he whimpered in agonizing pleasure. His hands knotted the sheets, and his fingernails dug into the hard mattress as her tongue began to play with him. He groaned and convulsed so hard that his lower half was lifted slightly off the bed. Her attentions became more intense, and his cries became louder. He didn't care who heard them, he was too absorbed in what was happening to him.

Just when he thought he couldn't take anymore, she stopped and leaned down to look him in the eye. He thought he could then settle himself down, but she pressed hard against his arousal, and he gasped as he throbbed in want.

"It's hot," she murmured, touching her nose to his. At first he thought she was talking about the temperature of the room until her fingers lightly brushed him. Then he understood and nodded slowly, far too helpless to attempt speech.

She glanced down at it, then comprehension dawned in her eyes.

"Oh," she whispered, looking back at him, "you desire completion."

She pressed against him again, and he gasped out an affirmative. She grinned and looked him over: he was breathed erratically and his body was glistening with a light sheen of sweat. His pupils were fully dilated in arousal, and his cheeks were flushed in a light shade of purple. The rest of his face was paler than she had ever seen.

She flipped him so that he was on top again, and he waited for her command. She prepared herself, shape-shifting what she would need, then nodded to him.

"You're sure?" he gasped, worry in his features. She grinned and pulled him so close that their lips were almost touching.

"Do it," she growled, parting her legs to make it easier for him. He nodded, took a deep breath and obeyed.

He almost pulled away at her surprised gasp, but he couldn't bear to stop the indescribable pleasure. The young Changeling had not known what to expect, so at the moment of penetration, she immediately reverted her insides to gel, and she instinctively contracted around him. She squeezed him, causing him to moan, and tears sprung into his eyes. He quickly blinked them away and stared down at her, wondering if she wanted to continue.

Her eyes were closed and her mouth was open, and some of the finer details in her face had melted into fair approximations. A smile had graced her lips, and she opened her eyes and set her piercing blue eyes on him.

"Oh, Weyoun..." she groaned weakly, "do that again..."

He smiled in utter relief; he could not bear to cause her any pain. But it seemed she found his actions as pleasing as he did, and he obeyed her. Her cry was a little louder, and her hands found his hips.

"Again," she whispered. "Please...don't stop."

Thrusts and contractions, back and forth they danced, her insides slowly tightening around him. He slowly became more vocal and she more silent, until he reached a stage where he was murmuring nonsense. She listened intently and silenced him with a finger.

"Kiss me," she whispered, and she captured his lips and dug her fingernails into his thighs as he thrust again.

He could feel the buildup inside him, intense and unstoppable, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the unbearable pleasure. He felt like he might die, the heat and the pressure were so strong. Weyoun wasn't sure if he should finish or not; he _so _wanted to finish, to experience this in full, but would it be disrespectful? Would she mind?

She could see the question in his face and stroked his hair. "I told you I want to see what happens next. Do what you have to do...and don't be ashamed, Weyoun."

He cried out and moved a little further, and he gripped her shoulders like a lifeline. A noise, half groan and half sob, escaped his pale, parted lips. Pale legs entwining and another tight squeeze...he could hardly think, it was so overwhelming.

_Founders_, he thought through the haze of pleasure, _Founders, this feels so..._

He was pulled down and a warm mouth pressed to his. "Do it," he heard her growl in his ear. He gasped and thrust again.

With a violent jolt and a great cry, he collapsed over her, his cheeks tear-stained, his skin slick with sweat. His breathing was still ragged as he weakly pushed himself up.

Her blue eyes were sharp, but satisfied. "Yes...that was quite intense for you, wasn't it?"

He nodded, too weak for speech. He had no choice but to fall back down on her chest, but she simply stroked his ears as he caught his breath. That had been indescribable, utterly amazing, _intoxicating_. No wonder the Solids loved intimacy so much; the results were quite pleasurable. He shivered as a cool breath of air touch him, and he realized how cold the room felt now. Weyoun finally felt strong enough to push himself up again, and he did so and stared down at her.

"Thank you, Weyoun...are you tired?"

He shook his head. "No, I just needed to catch my breath. Vorta were made to be hearty."

The young Changeling grinned, and suddenly he was under her again.

"Then let's try that again...I want to see how intense I can make it..."

He nodded and nearly cried for joy.

...

An hour later, she traced the lines of sweat that lined his pale skin, and he gazed at her in awe through cloudy amethyst eyes.

"I think I understand this now," she whispered. "She doesn't know why Solids find that so pleasurable, but watching you, your reactions...I understand."

She leaned forward and kissed his lips gently. "You need sleep, Weyoun. I can see you're tired."

He sighed and closed his eyes, and he smiled as he felt her nestle her nose into his neck. Every part of his body relaxed and seemed to sigh in relief, and as her lips gently caressed his skin, he could not fight the exhaustion anymore. He gave in to sleep, and she waited until he was perfectly still before covering him up with the sheets and exiting the room.

When the doors closed, the eyes that had been watching from the vents turned away and left the Vorta to sleep in the growing darkness.


	5. Wrong

_**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. The first section contains SEXUAL MATTERS. Don't like, don't read.**_

Weyoun gasped as she settled over him, moaning loudly at her now-expert movements. She knew just what to do to please him the most, and over the last week she had given _him _a thorough course in his own sexuality. She enjoyed watching him, and he had quickly learned to let everything out. She wanted to see everything and try everything with him, and the last six nights had been a whirlwind of passion and lust and sheer, undeniable pleasure.

He whimpered and closed his eyes as she slowly began to speed up, and he was hurtling quickly toward the brink. She noticed that he often called upon her and the Founders in those moments and asked him why that was, and he said that was normal. His studies had taught him that humanoids often called out to deities during that time, and she found that interesting. She seemed to like to be the thing on his mind when he peaked; she liked hearing her title screamed out in the heat of the moment. It was strange, but Weyoun was far from understanding why the Founder wanted to do this with him. What bemused him the most was that she was _still _interested in this subject. He thought surely after their first lesson, she would be satisfied, but no: she continued for six nights, asking questions, experimenting, leaving him weak with exhaustion and pleasure when she left in the early hours of the morning. It was a good thing he needed very little sleep, else he would be falling behind in his duties by now.

He could feel the buildup and moaned in satisfaction. She was getting very good at this, and he wasn't sure if that bothered him or not. Then, it wasn't his business to know, only to obey her and give her his best in everything.

Suddenly, she stopped. His eyes snapped open.

Her blue eyes glinted mischievously, and she leaned down and grinned at him. "Do you want me to keep going?"

"Yes," he panted, weak with pleasure. His clouded eyes widened when she grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head. Why did that feel so..._enticing_?

"Are you sure?" she asked playfully, moving another inch. He whimpered.

"_Yes_," he moaned desperately. She squeezed him until he yelped, and she kissed him lightly on the lips.

"I don't believe you," she teased, squeezing him again. He cried out and arched his back weakly.

He understood the gist of this new game. "Please," he moaned, "please don't stop, Founder."

She moved again and he gasped. "How does it feel?" she whispered.

Eloquence escaped him. "_So good..._" he groaned, and his voice sounded beastly in his ears. She moved again.

"_Founders_," he hissed, clenching his pinned fists. Again, she sped up, and he kept the banter going, moaning, whimpering, _begging _for every inch she gave him. Moan after moan, groan after whimper after growl, until he was screaming to his gods in ecstasy.

"Founders!" he howled, his nails digging into his palms. "Please, don't ever stop! Don't. Ever. Stop..."

Everything was heat and insanity and the most exceptional high of his life-

"That feels..." he groaned, unable to complete the sentence, at a loss for words. Again and again and again, until at last it was done and he felt warmth and everything relaxed.

It took him a moment to realize that she had released his wrists and had also moved off him. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw that she was clothed again, a contrite, pained expression on her face.

"I should not have done that," she breathed, unable to meet his gaze. "That was wrong of me..."

After a moment, he sat up and knelt before her. "Have I displeased you, Founder?" he asked fearfully, trembling. She glanced up at him and shook her head.

"That was wrong of me..." she murmured again, then she pulled him closer and gazed meaningfully into his eyes.

"When you gave yourself over to me...I saw...you would have done anything...said anything...that _scares _me, Weyoun...I don't think I want to control you."

He breathed out a bated breath, and his expression was sincere. "I would beg to be your slave, Founder. I am willing to let you do anything you wish to me."

She almost smiled at that. "Then...you _enjoyed _being controlled?"

He frowned; her question caught him off-guard. "I didn't mind it...yes, I think I did enjoy it," he admitted with a nervous laugh. "I've...never been..._controlled _like that before, but it...it was refreshing," he ended, not sure how to express himself.

In a perverse sort of way, he _had _enjoyed the experience, having to beg for every ounce of pleasure. He knew that before she thought better of it, she was enjoying herself as well. He tried to relieve her guilt by smiling at her, and it seemed to help. She had no cause to feel guilty; he was completely willing to do whatever she told him. Perhaps he enjoyed her control so much because it was another chance for him to serve her. She had experimented and found the experience less than satisfactory, and he was dying to be guinea pig for her for all eternity. This relationship between them confused him, but they managed a tidy arrangement that pleased both of them.

His smile reassured her, and she pulled him back so that she was leaning against the headboard, and he was leaning against her.

"I just want to hold you for a while, Weyoun. I should make that up to you..."

He shook his head. "You owe me nothing, Founder. I would do _anything _for you."

She smiled. "I believe you."

He relaxed and did not fight the exhaustion that clouded his senses, and soon he was fast asleep, held fast in her arms.

…

"I should have never left you to your own devices," the Founder said emphatically, shaking her head. "We are _beyond _the sexual matters you explored with the Vorta."

"I like Weyoun, I like being around him and I like the way he acts," the young Changeling replied simply. "You can understand that, can't you?"

The Founder shook her head. "That too bemuses me. The Vorta are useful creatures, but I find them most tiresome sometimes. I don't see the appeal in them that you do. But to think that you would base yourself to mate with them..."

The young Changeling frowned. "Have I done something wrong?"

"The way Solids experience intimacy is far below us. I thought I had impressed that upon you."

Her blue eyes widened in indignation. "But...you did it. With the other one."

The Founder's eyes clouded at the thought of Odo. "He thought that teaching me such matters would help me understand Solids better. But I did not come any closer to understanding them by engaging in such activity ."

"I did."

The Founder, who had been pacing, turned abruptly toward her fellow Changeling.

"And what have you learned?"

"I know more about the Vorta, their bodies, even their thoughts. Weyoun has taught me much."

She frowned. "The Solids are no more than a chain. You do not need to concern yourself with them, and I think it would be wise to limit your time around them."

"What are you saying?"

"You are young, and you still do not understand the threat the Solids have posed to us. Even now, they wage war against us, fearful of our superiority, of our very nature. But you shouldn't concern yourself with that. And you shouldn't concern yourself with Weyoun either."

"Why not?"

"Because I feel it is best," the Founder replied shortly. "It has taken us too long to find you, and I will not let this opportunity of raising you free from outside threats to pass. The Link values you too much."

"Why are you so frightened?" the younger Changeling whispered. "What do you fear?"

"I have nothing to fear."

"No...you're lying. Why does the thought of me spending time with the Vorta frighten you?"

"It is best that you learn with me."

"Are you scared that I'll abandon you? Like the other Changeling did? Are you scared that I might put a Solid above you? I would never do that to you."

The Founder was silent for several minutes as she pondered her arguments. "I only want what is best for you. If only I could link with you, you would begin to understand."

The young Changeling frowned. "Why can't you link with me?"

A mirthless laugh was her response. "Haven't you noticed how hard it is to change form? Haven't you felt how difficult it is to hold this shape?"

Her eyes widened and she nodded. "I thought...I thought it was because I'm so young and that in time...what's wrong?"

"My poor little one...we are dying."


End file.
